


Awakenings

by unbroken_halo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Sentinel
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7222975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbroken_halo/pseuds/unbroken_halo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a routine training mission, Harry takes a hit from a miscast curse and ends up in an isolated ward at St. Mungo's. The curse forces his senses and magic into overdrive. Only one person provides any release from the overload, and Harry is uncertain what to do about it.</p><p>Hermione Granger is curious about the reactions Harry is having to what should have been a simple curse, easily cured. All she knows though, is that Harry has always been there for her and she is going to do everything in her power to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_”James, he's doing it again, are you certain we shouldn't summon a mediwitch? Certainly Albus could send Poppy, at the least?”_

_Harry watched his mother, as young and beautiful as he'd seen in Snape's pensieve, cross a large room and dip her hands into a bassinet. She pulled out Baby Harry and he gawked at the scene, wondering how in the world this was happening. He hadn't had any sort of dreams or memories like this before._

_He moved closer to Lily Potter and his infant self, peering with shock and wonder at the little details of her face. The sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose, the slight shade difference of her eyes versus his. Little Harry received the same treatment and Harry found he could smell the baby powder and the sudo cream Lily had used on him. Another subtle, sweet scent filled his nose and it reminded him of citrus and flowers. He had smelled this before and never realized it was Lily's perfume._

_He fought the urge to reach out to see if he could touch them, feel their realness as well as the added extra senses of sight and smell. He stumbled away though, as Little Harry reared back away from Lily's chest, not wanting to shatter this dream or illusion or memory. Harry didn't know which it was, but it was more real than anything he'd ever experienced before._

_Lily shushed Little Harry and cradled his head, pushed on his neck, trying to settle his brow close to her heart. “Calm down, baby boy. Mummy loves you,” she murmured as Harry stared at both of them in wonder._

_Little Harry struggled against her gentle hold, reached up and tugged at his ears. An odd sort of expression crossed his tiny face before he allowed her to bury his small head into Lily's bosom. His dark hair stood up even more as he rubbed his cheeks along the material of her robes then looked up at her._

_His eyes, so very green then just as they were today, were reddened and he pulled another face before crying out and burrowing back into her breasts._

_Lily shushed him, rubbing his back and bouncing him in her arms as she walked over to James. Little Harry's cries were harsh, the frustrated sounds of a tired and possibly ill infant. Harry followed them, walking right through a low table and standing beside the chair his father sat in. Leather and broom polish invaded his senses, expanding the long forgotten memories of a deep voice and strong hands as the scent was another reminder that he had been loved and fiercely so._

_James Potter looked up from the_ Daily Prophet _and smiled at his wife and son. Harry recognized the grin from the mirror, the curl of James' mouth and that twinkle in his brown eyes._

_Reaching out, James laid a hand on Little Harry's back, running long, lean fingers down the blue onesie pajamas and stroking Harry's chubby little leg._

_“The Healer just said last week at his check-up everything was well with him. All normal for little boys his age. Perhaps his magic is getting ready to manifest. Said it would start about now, I believe.”_

_James' hand drifted back up and brushed over Lily's, their fingers twining for a moment, before both began a slow, soothing path over Little Harry's back. Little Harry snuffled, tugging his ear lobe once again and Lily looked down at James, tears welling in her eyes. "I know, darling, but…"_

_James nodded. “If you are really that concerned, then I shall Floo Albus immediately.”_

_“Please do, love. I don't want him catching something and not be able to get help out here. Batilda is a dear, but really, I'd rather a professional's opinion.”_

_James chuckled, setting the Prophet aside and pushing to his feet. He leaned in and bussed her cheek then pressed his lips to the top of Little Harry's hair. Harry fussed and then screamed as the doorbell rang._

_“Wonder who that could be?”_

_Lily followed James to the door, and Harry got a sick feeling in his chest as he watched them._

_“No, don't do it. Don't open the door, Dad,” Harry whispered._

_James did reach for the brass knob, though he drew his wand first, as he turned the shiny door handle. Harry saw red eyes and Lily screamed, cradling Little Harry closer to her as James shouted. Harry yelled with him as if he knew exactly what James was going to say._

_“Run, Lils! Take Harry and run!”_

_Green haze filled his vision and..._

Harry jerked awake. He sat straight up and groaned, covering his face with his hands, the motions startling someone beside his bed. He peeked through his fingers, the sound of breathing and a rapid heart beat drumming against his senses. He grasped his head next, pulling at his ears as Little Harry had done and reared back when she stood over him.

“Oh, Harry! You startled me."

_Hermione._

Her voice boomed in his ears and he cringed back, but something changed. Sounds dropped away to normal volume and he had to strain to hear Hermione speaking to him. He felt a wave of calm roll over him at her touch. Then, just as suddenly, his senses went wild again. He tried to breath normally, but the smells of antiseptic and sickness threw him. He sucked in air, breathed in her scent this time; the smell of parchment and Sleekeazy's strong in his nose. He drew it in again, noting a spicy amber scent, too. It soothed him even as her touch burned on his skin and he could feel the imprint of her palm, hot against his back through the thin hospital gown he wore. The sensation of her fingertips intensified for a moment and he moaned, rocking on the hospital bed.

"Calm down, and let me get the medi-witch.”

Harry started to nod, but a wave of nausea washed over him. The lights in the room seemed to brighten and burn his retinas. He cringed, covering his face with his hands and pressing back against Hermione's hands.

He snarled, wanting to pull away from her and as the same time not wanting to lose contact. He ground out her name, fisting his hands at his eyes and pressing against his skull.

"Harry!"

The shout for the medi-witch was the last thing he heard, her chocolate brown eyes, pinched with worry and fear the last he saw before darkness encroached and wrapped him in a black embrace.

~*~

Hermione held Harry's hand, stroking his bony knuckles and caressing the callouses on the pads of his fingers while he slept. The diagnostic spell ran a constant read out of Harry's vitals and she studied it with weary eyes. Yawning, she leaned back in her uncomfortable chair, fidgeting to get comfortable.

The timestamp and date passed across the hazy cloud of biological information and she sighed. Thirty-six hours after the training accident and just twelve after the nightmare had scared them both, Harry still hadn't regained consciousness. Ron and Neville had already been released, both coming by to see if there had been any changes. Each man had been bruised and scratched, but alive and well. Even the little trainee, who had cast the spell, came to check on Harry. Timid and remorseful as he had been, Hermione didn't have the heart to glare at him as Ron had.

He stuttered out an explanation to her and the medical personnel that flitted around Harry, and Hermione had nodded. Noting the mispronunciation of the curse they had been demonstrating, the medi-wizards had pushed them all out of the area to finish their work on Harry.

They had worked frantically, clearing away blood and bruising, casting the counter-curses to the hexes Harry had allowed through his charmed Auror belts. The blood red robes hid a multitude of sins against Harry's person allowing the wizarding law enforcement to appear invincible.

But Hermione knew differently.

She'd taken one look at the appearance of all three men that had come to see Harry immediately after the accident and wondered if Harry had thrown himself in front of the rogue spell to stop them all from further injury and that's why he was still under observation.

The robes only protected the outside and the damage showed through to the skin once the armor of cloth had been removed. Neville and Ron had taken the leather belts and the torn and dirty robes, ushering out Trainee Dyson with them. A few other aurors as well as friends of Harry's had shown up to look in on him. Most stayed to visit with Hermione until the welcome witch shooed them all away when visiting hours ended.

Hermione hadn't left though. She couldn't --wouldn't-- leave him alone.

Hermione covered her mouth as she fought another yawn, looking over Harry's face once more. Reaching out, she traced one fading scratch across his cheek, her fingers scraping against the black stubble on his skin.

An egg-sized knot on his temple, still slightly red and swollen, marred Harry's handsome features and distended the white lightening bolt scar. The Healers informed her that the contusion and swelling would go down eventually on its own. However, the spell used to heal the injury needed to be applied slowly to avoid causing serious side effects. 

Harry sighed, turning his face into her caresses, and she stroked his face more. She knew better than to touch him; it was a guilty pleasure she shouldn't indulge in, but she also knew that he most likely would have never allowed the contact if he'd been awake. He still had nightmares and after the one he had earlier, she vowed not to let the medi-witches force her to leave unless it was medically necessary. She wasn't his wife, or even his girlfriend, but she was the one he had listed on his emergency contact.

Not even Ginny had garnered that spot, and it felt a bit mean of her to think about that. The way Ginny had just left Harry after the war made her blood boil. Going off to play Quidditch, Merlin, really? But Harry had let her go, watching sadly even as he smiled and waved when she'd departed for the Harpies' training grounds.

"Rest well and come back to me, Harry," Hermione whispered and leaned back in her chair, her fingers still loosely tangled with Harry's.

Just as she drifted off, though, she swore she felt his hand jerk. That his fingers tightened around hers and she squeezed back despite his hand feeling limp.

"Mione," he breathed.

She jolted awake, staring at him in stunned silence, his mouth as still as the rest of him.


	2. Two

_Hermione walked through a chilly, snow covered forest. The trees were thick, but she was able to walk unimpeded. The place seemed familiar, though at first look around she did not recognize it. Continuing to walk, the feeling of remembrance became stronger as she noticed more and more of her surroundings. An icy river wound through the trees and faint, oft trodden footpaths appeared at regular intervals. She shivered, running her hands over her arms to warm herself, and finally recognized the area as the Forest of Dean. Glancing around, she looked for both Harry and Ron, but noticed neither._

_The trees around her cleared as she walked and Hermione entered the lake area. Across the frozen water a large stag with a tall full rack, pawed at the lake's icebound surface. She stared at the animal, the way the powerful muscles moved under its thickened winter coat as it attempted to find its way to the water. A loud crack echoed in the clearing as the deer finally broke through the hardened top layer._

_Her breath escaped in a rush of steam at the sound, but the stag ignored her, bending his majestic head down and drinking the from the frosty lake. She had to get closer-- needed-- to see him and be next to the magnificence nature had wrought._

_Creeping closer, Hermione noticed that the stag's fur was different shades of rich chocolate, tan and black strands melding with a gorgeous red tone underneath. A myriad of white scars raced through the fur, too, his life shown in the patterned colours of his pelt. His body trembled, whether from the cold or exhaustion, she couldn't determine just yet, but she moved ever so slowly nearer. With a jerk, the stag straightened, turned his massive head, and stared right at her. She stilled, just watching the animal as she was studied herself._

_The stag stepped back, moving sideways and Hermione gasped as she saw a gash along the animal's front flank. The stag stumbled and sank to its knees before collapsing fully on the ground. The stag gave a distressed cry, its nose in the air, the musty fog from his breathe streaming out into the chilly atmosphere. The whomp of sound expelled from the landing and another pained sound in the air jolted her into action._

_Hermione raced across the slick ground, slipping on the icy grasses, before finally sliding on her knees to a halt beside the deer._

_"Oh, oh, please, no" she murmured as she looked over the deer. Laying her hand against the animal's side, she felt his body shudder and she looked up, staring into the stag's face and noticing his large green eyes. The stag bleated, the noise low and mournful, but in the sound she swore she heard her name._

_"Harry," she whispered and the stag bowed its head, resting the great rack across her lap, his eyes slowly opening and closing as he breathed and watched her. Turning from the injured stag, she frantically searched through her clothing, looking for her bag of holding and her wand. She finally uncovered the beaded purse beneath her jacket and jumper and reached deep inside the bag, fingers clutching and grasping everything but her wand._

_Crying out in frustration at all the clutter in the bag, she huffed a breath and closed her eyes, calming herself. "Accio wand!"_

_Her wand, the old vine one she had started Hogwarts slapped into her palm and she stared at it for a long moment. A sigh from the stag put her back in motion and she stared at the wound._

_"I don't know what to use on an animal, Harry." Hermione bit her lip and raised her wand, singing out the many spells she knew to heal._

_The stag watched her, grunting as the magic raced over his skin, and Hermione ran her hand along his nose, petting the soft, thick fur. "I'm trying, love." A warm lick of the stag's tongue traced along her hand._

_"Hermione…"_

"Hermoine?"

Hermione jolted awake, dropping Harry's hand and staring up at Ron while he bent over her. Harry moaned and they turned to look at him, but he didn't make another sound.

She looked up at Ron and smiled at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Come to get you to take a break. I'll sit with him for a while." He handed her a go cup from some shop and Hermione could smell the cinnamon and coffee wafting from the vent holes in the lid.

"Oh, thank you," she breathed and sipped the drink even though she knew it would scald her tongue. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment then turned and looked at Harry.

The knot on his forehead had gone down and only a small pink patch lingered on his skin. His face was even more scruffier than it had been, his dark hair thick and wild at both his jaw and the top of his head. "He needs a shave. I forgot to tell the medi-witch last night. They won't let me use magic on him in case it interferes with his healing. One spell caster at a time they said."

"Yeah, he always shaves twice a day, and this much growth would most likely drive him mad."

She chuckled and gently ran her fingers through the coarse lengths, then unthinking about Ron's presence, leaned over to press a lingering kiss on the spot. "I'll be back, Harry."

Ron shook his head at her and straightened. "Mum did the same thing."

Hermione swallowed back a gulp of coffee, hoping to hide the warmth and color crawling across her cheeks. "Well, the medi-witch said to talk to him. It might help bring him out."

Ron eyed her. "I know. I was just…" 

"Yes?"

"Not saying anything except that there are others who can sit vigil, Hermione."

Drinking another slow sip of coffee, Hermione nodded. "I know. I just didn't want him to think he's going to be left alone."

Ron sighed. "Mum's waiting outside to take you to your flat."

"I believe I can Apparate there on my own. I have slept." Hermione stood, stretching out her back and wincing at the pops and cracks. She looked down at Harry as she straightened her clothing. 

Ron nodded and enveloped her in his arms. She snuggled against his chest, soaking up the warmth of his embrace and wondered, not for the first time, why she couldn't have stayed in love with him. But she knew why and though it saddened her, they were both better off with others. He had been her friend for years, and he was happy with Lavender and the two children she had already provided him.

"I know you can, but Mum wants to help, so let her, please. She feels Harry's still upset with her after the way Ginny left because he hasn't been by the house in awhile." He huffed out a breath. "She owled to say won't come home." Ron rubbed her back then frowned at her when she pulled away.

"Ginny won't come home to see him?" 

Ron ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Well, she can't, is what the note said. But I know Jones would give her leave, so I am saying won't." 

Hermione scowled and glanced over at the bed then back up at Ron. "Maybe we should discuss this outside."

Shaking his head, Ron pushed her towards the door. "He knows, Hermione. Now, go. Shower, eat and rest before you come back. I'll send word if anything changes."

Hermione gave Harry one last, long and searching look then toed up to buss Ron's cheek. He shook his head at her, pushed her towards the door, before he settled in her seat, his long legs crossed out in front of him. Finally turning to go out the door, she heard Ron start to talk to Harry.

"I want you to know, mate, that we are missing the Cannons game."

The door to Harry's room closed softly behind her and she let Molly's arms come about her, resting heavily against the ample woman before allowing her to take her away. Molly might leave her at her flat, but that didn't mean she was going to stay there and do nothing when a little searching might do Harry some good. 

The remains of Molly's pan of biscuits and the contents of the covered basket of food she'd brought along littered the counter of her kitchen. Hermione shoved the last bite of roasted beef into her mouth, and she washed it down with the final dram of butter beer. Sighing, she closed her eyes for a moment letting the comfort food work its magic. She stifled a yawn and cleaned up the mess of her dinner.

Once everything was put away, she glance at the clock on her range and nodded. The London Library should be opening just about now and she was certain she had given Molly enough time to cease lingering outside her flat. Just an hour or two of searching and she'd come back to change and return to Harry.

Pulling her cloak and taking her bag, Hermione grabbed the notepad and biro from beside the phone and headed out the door. 

~*~

_Harry walked along the river in the Forest of Dean. Though he knew it to be winter, the air was warm and soothing around him. The forest itself was vibrant and green with the summer air floating about. He felt free, looser and more relaxed than he had in quite a long time. Birds sang as he walked along the paths, stopping to pick and smell the wildflowers. Woodbine wrapped around trees filling the air with the sweet scent of honey and buzzing bees._

_Harry plucked one fat blossom from the woodbine, pinched off the end and licked the drop of nectar that welled at the base of the flower. He sighed as he looked around and closed his eyes turning his face to the sun. A shadow passed over the glade where he had paused and a chill wind blew over the area. He shuddered, running his hands over his bare arms and then turned toward the sound of a babbling stream. Crossing the path and venturing into the woods proper, Harry felt drawn to find the source of the watery music._

_He came upon the river suddenly, almost falling into the swiftly moving water and backed up a few steps. Bending down, he cupped his hands in the clear water and drank the coldness from his fingers._

_A sharp crack made Harry look up from his hands. Across the river an otter sat on his hind haunches. The animal lifted its tiny arms, a struggling crayfish in its paws. Harry almost missed it when the otter slammed the crayfish down on the rock, cracking its shell before crunching on the invertebrate._

_He watched the animal eat, toss the remaining shell into the water then clean its face. Shaking its head and giving off a dainty sneeze, the otter slipped into the water. Harry watched it swim after the small fish in the water, jaws snapping after the quick silvery meals. It finally caught one and surfaced just in front of Harry._

_Startled by the splash of cold water on his face, Harry jumped, falling backward and landing on his bum. The otter crawled out of the river, the wiggling fish still in its mouth. The animal stalked forward, its brown eyes intent on Harry._

_Harry stayed still then eyed the otter when it stopped a few feet away from him. The tiny webbed paws took hold of the fish and ripped off a small portion of the shiny scaled flesh then offered it to Harry. He slowly reached for the fish but his hand passed right through the meat._

_The otter continued to hold out the meat, waiting for Harry. The little head tilted and shoved its paws forward, once more giving the fish to Harry._

_Scrambling closer, Harry tried for the fish again, but he was denied a second time. The otter seemed to wilt and shoved the fish into its mouth before turning away._

_"No, little guy, don't go," Harry whispered and the otter turned to look at him. The expression on the otter's face seemed so familiar as it stared at Harry._

_"Um… little lady?"_

_The otter seemed to incline her head at him and held out the fish again. Harry reached for it but his fingers slid through the meat as if one or both of them were nothing but ghostly presences._

_The otter hung its head, walking back to the river, its long tail limp along the ground._

_"No, don't leave me," Harry said, moving closer to the otter. "I'm trying! Wait!"_

_The otter kept going, though, heedless of Harry's shouts and scrambling. Water swallowed the otter, the slick surface wavering as it swam away from Harry. Harry gasped and screamed out, as he fell into the water, the current pulling him under. "Don't leave me, Hermione!"_

"Hermione!" 

Harry's scream startled Ron out of the article he'd been reading in the magazine Hermione had left behind. Dropping the slick book, he saw Harry flail on the bed, screaming Hermione's name once more before he covered his ears and buried his face into the bedsheets. 

Ron called for the medi-witch and drew his wand, conjuring his Patronus. With a quick hissed message, he sent the little Jack Russell terrier after Hermione. He stared back at Harry, wondering what to do next. 

Harry rolled over on the bed and hissed, his hands leaving the side of his head and covering his face. 

"Harry! Harry, calm down. It's Ron." 

Harry shouted, the strangled noise catching in his throat and sounding for all the world like a heartbroken sob. The cry continued and the sound of Harry's howling made the hairs on Ron's neck stand on end as Harry thrashed on the bed. 

Ron moved closer to the bed, hoping to gently restrain Harry before he hurt himself further and took a fist to the jaw for his troubles. Yelling over Harry again for the medi-witch, Ron wrapped his arms about Harry, praying for both the Healer and Hermione to hurry. 


	3. Three

Hermione screeched as the Jack Russell Patronus passed into her shower. The message was partially drowned out by the shower spray, but she caught Harry's name, and she fled the stall, wrapping a towel around her as she went.

It took her all of twenty minutes to dry off, dress and return to St. Mungo's. The ward Harry was isolated on had been blocked off by some Aurors and several men in dark suits. She paused then noticed Kingsley Shacklebolt standing to the side, speaking to a British intelligence officer. She recognized the Muggle liaison from the Ministry as he talked to Ron.

Wondering what had happened, Hermione stared around the room, looking for a familiar face. She started forward again, ready to demand answers.

Ron turned, noticed her, and paused in his conversation. "Hermione! Come here."

An auror grasped her arm, and she looked up into Neville's face. "He's okay," he murmured. The breath that left her nearly forced her to collapse in Neville's arms but she shored up as he continued to speak. 

"They had to sedate him, then Kingsley showed up with these… gentlemen. I don't know much of anything else, except it's all very hush-hush." He gave her a look and she turned from Neville's face to look at the people milling around outside the ward.

"But…"

Neville shook his head. "After. Go on, Harry needs you."

She stared at him as he moved her arm to Ron's and they were swiftly ushered through the ward doors. 

"Talk to me, Ron," Hermione hissed as she was frogmarched down the hall.

Ron's long legs ate up the distance as they wound through the corridors and she stepped quickly to keep up with him. "A couple hours or so after you left, Harry woke. He just… went mad. Screaming your name. It took several medi-witches to subdue him and to sedate him. I don't know what's going on, but the Muggles have gotten involved now."

Hermione stared at him as they walked, noticing the pinched look on his face and her worry about Harry returned. "Why?"

"I have no idea, but something is going on, and Harry's right in the middle of it." He gave her a sad smile. "Again."

Hermione snorted and shook her head. Trepidation filling her as they rounded the corner. Just outside Harry's room was a group of medi-wizards and witches, Healers and the government men. In the center of this group, a short man with a head full of bushy hair was making wild hand gestures toward Harry's room. As they approached, she finally could hear his words.

"Look, you've got an newly online Sentinel who has been traumatized. Numerous times, if your files on this person are correct. You need to find his Guide. Because if you don't, he is either going to shut down from the sensory overload, or go completely insane." He adjusted his stance, wrapping his arms about his chest. A strange look passed over his face. 

A large, burly man moved closer to the smaller one and laid a hand on his shoulder. The bushy haired man looked up at the taller one and gave him a small smile. He turned back to the medi-witches. The larger man stood sentinel over the other as he began to talk again.

"If he goes insane, I refuse to aid your agency any longer. Your methods of restraining him seem a bit more humanitarian than the ones we use in the States, but honestly, you've got a nightmare on your hands, especially if you keep drugging him into submission with your spells and potions."

"Oh Merlin, you're Dr Blair Sandburg," Hermione blurted out and the group of men turned to look at her.

Ron cleared his throat, gave her a little push toward them and abandoned her side as quickly as possible. She glared at him then turned back to the short man.

He was staring at her, the larger man with him eyed her as well. She stared right back and then said. "And Captain James Ellison." She swallowed and then shook her head. "Oh, Merlin, I thought it was an American myth."

Ellison narrowed his eyes at her. "And you are, ma'am?"

Sandburg elbowed Ellison and then stepped forward. "This is the woman, isn't it? The witch he's calling for?"

Hermione jumped as Sandburg grabbed her hand. "I was a doctor, yes, but..." His blue eyes were intense as he looked at her. "I knew you had to be out there, I just wasn't for certain."

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione blinked.

"Witches, wizards and the like. I have seen other versions in my studies, but to actually meet a non-religious practicing…"

Hermione tuned him out, the dose of her own medicine as Sandburg talked about witches and real magic. Something about shamans and native cultures floated through her conscience as she thought about what he had been saying.

"Chief…"

The deep voice brought a halt to Sandburg's ramblings, the tone forcing Hermione out of her musings, as well. She stared at both men, assessing them as a pair. 

Sandburg looked up at Ellison and grinned, then turned back to her. Blowing out a breath, he nodded. "I know, get to the point. If you know of me, then you know what has happened to your friend."

Hermione took a deep breath, then nodded. "I came across your dissertation and a monograph Sir Richard Francis Burton's this morning while I visited the library. I had dismissed the idea because of the surrounding controversy of the report, but I did read it."

Sandburg stepped closer, Ellison still hovering at his back, and whispered in her ear. "He's like Jim, your friend. You are going to have to bring him back. You are his Guide. You must merge spirits and return him to a proper alignment."

Sandburg stepped back and stared into her eyes. "You don't want him going rogue."

Hermione shivered at the tone of his voice and whispered,"But how do you know that I am the one that--"

Ellison loomed over her and she noticed just how large he was. His very presence radiated a sense of menace tamed. No matter how handsome he appeared, he just seemed to be larger than life, almost like the feeling of a wizard, but wilder. "You know." he said. "You've dreamed of him. I know you know because I recognized Blair. It felt as if I had known him from somewhere, but couldn't place him."

Hermione shook her head. "I've known Harry for years," She stammered for a moment. "We've been through something terrible, and I…"

Ellison reached out and touched her face. His large hand cupped her cheek, and though she stared up into his handsome face, just past him, she could see Sandburg rolling his eyes. "You love him, and that's all right. You can do this."

Sandburg toed up to see over Ellison's shoulder and she looked at his face. "You have to do this actually. If you don't, you _are_ going to lose him."

"Blair." Ellison's voice, deep and sharp, drew her gaze back to his face. He stared down at Blair and Blair, though a short but solid presence at Ellison's side, backed down. He relaxed and sighed out a breath.

"Oh," Hermione breathed. "You are bonded. That's how you know. I mean, I read the paper and the reports, but I didn't quite understand, really."

Ellison nodded.

"Hermione."

Hermione turned and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt approaching. The Muggle MI6 agent at his side beckoned Ellison and Sandburg toward him with a sharp gesture.

Ellison inclined his head at the agent and then looked down at Hermione. "Just relax and bring him back." 

"He's going to be injured and he's scared, but you can and will help him," Sandburg added.

She felt Kingsley stop just behind her and with the parting words, Sandburg and Ellison were escorted out of the ward.

Turning, she looked up at Kingsley. He nodded to her and spoke. "If you are prepared, Hermione. The Department of Mysteries and a select group of staff from St Mungo's are standing by and waiting to offer you any assistance necessary."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Shall we proceed then?"

~*~

_The forest was odd, and felt off somehow, as if he weren't actually in the forest itself. Harry stumbled over a large root and the scenery changed. The once familiar trees seemed to move and bend, elongating as they shifted and becoming more menacing. The air around him darkened, forcing the appearance of the forest into a nightmare of gloomy woods._

_He shook his head and the trees morphed back to the Forest of Dean. The light penetrated the trees, giving him a glaring of hope in the darkness. The images before him stabilized for just a moment before becoming the tall, dark woods again. A howl rent the air and Harry recognized the Black Forest. He turned and felt the world shift again. Looking out across the forest once more, he found that the colours had muted._

_He breathed in deeply, the scent of the forest wreaking havoc with his senses. Moss and damp grasses, the chill of the air freezing filled his snout._

Snout? _The thought flitted through his head and Harry looked down. Instead of the heavy boots he'd been wearing, two huge cloven hooves pawed the forest floor. He reared back and landed on his bum. Raising his hands, Harry took in that he was human again and shook his head. He wasn't an Animagus, but seeing the hooves made him think of his Patronus._

_Confusion. Sounds and scents overwhelmed him and he bowed his head. Pain radiated through his body, his muscles tensing and releasing in rapid bursts as the air moved around him. When the spasms stopped, the strange sensation of_ being _a stag settled on him once more. He glanced around, trying to adjust to the changes._

_Some colours of the forest were muted and others were more vibrant, giving the surrounding trees a shadowy presence. The breeze blew through his fur, rustling the heavy coat and chilling his sensitive nose. Struggling to his feet, Harry moaned and the sound came out as a wounded bleet. He stumbled as the forest changed around him once more. The place in front of him settled into a recognized place and he tensed, waiting for another shift. He was back in the Forest of Dean, in the clearing where he and Ron had destroyed Slytherin's locket._

_Slowly, Harry made his way to the frozen pond. His tongue and throat were parched and he ached as if he'd gone a few rounds with a Cruciatus Curse. His hooves clicked on the frozen surface of the lake. He stared at the stag's blurred reflection in the ice, his tongue slipping out to grace over his nose. If he just had the energy, he could break through. He could get the water he desired._

_The crack of sound that rent the air when he lifted his hoof and drove it into the frozen barrier, startled him, but his scare was immediately rewarded. With a sigh of both pain and relief, Harry bent his head to the lake. The icy, cold goodness quenched his thirst and wet his throat, and he drank his fill of the water. A whisper of sound and a scent caught his attention and he looked up._

_Just a few feet from him, Hermione stood. She stared at him, her eyes wide and then she held out her hand. Turning, he tried to make his way to her, but he collapsed once he stepped back from the iced over lake._

_Instantly she was by his side, only she wasn't the woman, he'd come to depend on. She was the otter from the lake and Harry closed his eyes as he felt her fingers slip through his fur. "Hermione," he breathed._

_"Stay with me, Harry," her soft voice echoed in his ears as magic flowed over him._

_He twitched, struggled with the odd yet comforting sensation of the spells, and she stilled him with her paw. "Let me help, Harry."_

_He moaned and closed his eyes, trying to relax, and nodded. He felt his antlers scrapped along the ground and he smelled the river water from her fur when she moved closer. The tiny webbed hands rubbed on his side, dampness registering as the otter crawled up on top of him and went to sleep._

_Her body was small but put off an amazing amount of heat, and Harry finally let go and sank into the warmth of her._


	4. Four

Sitting cross-legged in front of Harry, Hermione studied their surroundings. The Forest of Dean was quiet, though the sounds of nature whispered softly around them. The feeling of safety, of love and happy times flitted at her conscience as she recalled that this place had once been a fun memory for her until they had been captured by the Snatchers. She could only guess why Harry felt secure in this place.

Turning back to Harry, she looked him over. He looked well, his body free of the bruising and the scars she knew to be there. But it wouldn't last for long, the marks were still on his soul, and that is what she would have to heal. She knew the purgative would begin to work soon, and she had such a short time to work before he would awaken. 

She reached out to touch Harry, thinking about her own skin and wondered if Harry's would clear completely as well. She was free of such things, though the lingering memory of torture would never be forgotten. Fleur had worked wonders on her after the terrible night in Malfoy Manor and all that remained was a horrible memory.

A moan startled her, and she focused on Harry. He was stirring and she hadn't even begun. Gasping, she jerked her hand away from him as his known scars appeared. The lightening bolt, faded to nothing after all these years burned red and bright before settling into its white line crossing his brow. The locket shaped depression on his chest gleamed red, too, for a short time. Other signs of Harry mis-adventures: Pettigrew's knife slice, the pucker from Nagini's bite, the horrible writing from the blood quill, each and every one of life's indignities blazed into being across Harry's body. Merlin, the Department of Mysteries could work fast when they wished. Leaning in, she reached out once more, hoping her touch would calm him as they had sworn it would.

Her fingertips brushed across the area on his chest where she'd cut the locket horcrux from his skin. She splayed her fingers over his heart and wished for him to waken. Harry's hand twitched and moved, grabbing her fingers and squeezing them tightly.

"Harry, let go and look at me. It's Hermione."

His eyes opened, the green wide and wild, his pupils blown before contacting in the pale light of the glade. "You came back," he breathed. He licked his lips and his eyes made an elevator pass over her before he glanced away.

"Why are you … um… naked?"

Hermione sucked in a breath and looked down at herself. She was going to give Dr Sandburg a hefty piece of her mind when they returned. She knew she would have to be open before Harry for him to trust her, but it had never occurred to her what that meant entirely. 

"You are as well, Harry, but it's fine. I trust you not to take the piss from me," she said in a soft tone.

Harry's head jerked toward her, meeting her eyes for a long moment then he smirked. "As if I hadn't already heard how beautiful you were from Ron, eh?"

Heat flooded her face. "Men," she muttered then cleared her throat. "I wish I could say the same thing, but Ginny was distinctly closed mouthed about your association."

Harry leaned back and Hermione tried to keep her eyes up, to not look at him as completely as he had her. She just focused on the dark hairs that surrounded his nipples, looking for the curse marks and bruising. Forcing herself to remain clinical as she could and not follow the thin black trail that ran down his flat stomach and pooled into a thick mass at his groin. Though he appeared relaxed, she could see that he wasn't as confident as he put on. 

"I am thoroughly surprised she didn't tell all she knew. I heard several complaints and comparisons myself."

Hermione closed her eyes, blocking out the movement of Harry's body, the twitch of his prick. Being this bare was uncomfortable, and she wondered how he managed to be so in control and yet, scared to death at the same time. He'd always been so stoic, though, about facing the unknown. 

"I'd rather not talk about her and what she chose to throw away, all things considered."

She could feel Harry staring at her and taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and found him sitting up once more, a more demure position at least, even though he was still on display for her. Honestly, Ginny was mad to complain about him. Harry was simply lovely, she decided as she took his whole body in. Long, lean and strong, a picture of masculinity, scars and all.

His chuckle drew her attention to his face and she blushed again. "It is nice to see you are human sometimes."

Shocked and hurt, she blinked and drew in a breath, easing away from him. He grabbed her hand, his long fingers holding tight, but not unbearably so.

"That didn't come out the way I intended."

"He said you'd be hurt and scared, so I shall try not to take it as offensive," Hermione stated, and though she had tried to make it as even as possible, even she heard the pain in her voice. 

"Did this 'he' also tell you that my mouth often runs off before my brain can catch up?"

So distracted by the ache and the realization that his opinion of her matter so much, she almost missed him tugging on her, physically and mentally. She could feel his hand on her arm, his fingers caressing her skin and trying to pull her closer. His heart, so often worn on his sleeve called to her, begging for her to allow his touch. It hurt and yet, it felt wonderful to be desired so. She reveled in the sensations and the intimacy for a short time, until a way of pain threaded through the desire. It brought her out of the bliss and she focused on him again.

"I knew, and as you are male, I didn't need anyone to tell me this."

His laughter thrilled her. He'd been asleep for so long, so injured, and she'd not heard that free sound in just as many days. She had missed it. Joy flowed through her and she wanted to touch him again. Her body reacted instinctively, allowing Harry to draw her nearer to him and then into his arms. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of him at her back, the little hairs rubbing against her skin and the length of him resting between her cheeks.

The heat of his breath against her ear caused her to shudder and he gripped her tightly. "What I meant was that it was good to see the armor of the robes and your intelligence give way. They are fearsome protection, but I enjoy the realness better. Even the best of us can succumb to our basest desires. A woman's mind is a wondrous thing, but her body is almost always the first thing that registers."

Swallowing, she tried to remain still in spite of being pressed against him skin to skin. "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, it still remains a comfort that you all think with the smaller head in such dire situations."

Harry laughed, the deep rich sound rolling over her again like a secret caress, and Hermione tried not to revel in the sound, the pleasure hearing it brought her. She couldn't ignore it this time, though, and joined him, giggling when his arms tightened around her.

"Ron also mentioned you had a devilish sense of humor, and I am glad to see it when you are so frightened and unsure."

"Ron has a very large mouth with no filter." Scowling as she sobered, Hermione shook her head, and then froze as she heard Harry inhale deeply. "Are… are you _smelling_ me?

"Mmhmm," Harry hummed. "Can't help it. You smell of the river and amber. I recognize that from potions, but it doesn't explain the scent now." He drew in another breath and she felt his lips move on her neck, trying not to imagine him licking her, tasting her skin. Then he did, his tongue graced over her skin and he hummed, and did it again.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself into control. "Oh, Merlin, your senses." Reaching between them, she pinched the muscled flesh of his thigh.

"Ow, bit rough, aren't you? Could have just asked me to stop." His mouth curled into a grin against her skin. "I wouldn't have bitten… hard, but I just _had_ to taste you."

Those words caused a shiver to run through her body and he squeezed her closer. "Going to have to stop that," he murmured, his voice deeper than before, more husky and breathless.

Swallowing, she pinched him again, even though she wanted to lean back into his arms and take him up on everything his voice and body implied. "Pay attention, Harry."

He snorted. "Oh, you've definitely garnered my regard, Miss Granger."

Huffing, Hermione turned her head and looked at him. Harry's mouth wore a smirk, but his eyes were guarded, the green clouded with more than just lust. She laid her hand upon his scruffy cheek and closed her eyes when he rubbed his face on her palm. 

"Why can't I stop with you?" he murmured. "I'm not trying to take liberties. It's also not right to desire your best mate's girl."

"Ex," Hermione breathed. "Ex girl, and it's all right. I know you don't really mean it."

"No, all girl from what I am feeling." His face ceased its rubbing and he raised his head, opening his eyes and pinning her with a look. "I do mean it, though. Hermione, may I…"

He trailed off, and even before she had a chance to asked or even give permission, he slanted his mouth across hers.

Warmth flushed through her at the contact, and she gasped. He took that opportunity as well, slipping his tongue inside her mouth, teasing and tasting her. She clung to him, kissing and tasting him as much as he had done her. His arms tightened again and she fought off the desire, slowly and reluctantly pulling back from the kiss. 

"Wait," he mouthed against her lips, leaning back in for another go at her.

"No, stop," Hermione said. He froze and his eyes opened. The hurt was masked under the desire but she still saw it, felt it along her skin as his body stiffened underneath her.

"I would never force you." Anger laced the statement as did pain.

"I know," she reassured him and laid her hand on his cheek again. "I trust you, and you are going to have to trust me."

"I trust you."

Even as he said it a few marks appeared on his body, bruises bloomed across his chest and abdomen. He winced, and looked down at the contusions before glancing up at her again, confusion written in his expression. Hermione felt the pain, her body aching in sympathy with his. She hurt for him because of the changes that were coming, but she pushed forward. "Do you want to know why you are like this?"

His eyes narrowed and he studied her, then nodded. "I'm listening."

"The curse, the one that put you here, awakened something in you."

Harry flinched, and Hermione could see the past closing in. Feel him remembering what had happened and all that he had suffered since he took the curse. His out of control senses, layering themselves back onto his body along with the injuries from the training session. "It was a simple sleeping curse," Harry forced out through his clenched teeth.

"From an awed and scared young man, that has a slight stuttering problem. He tried to say the Disarming curse and the sleeping curse at the same time." Hermione touched his face, running her fingers along his skin hoping to soothe away some of the pain and keep him calm for when everything finally descended on them.

Harry frowned, even as he leaned into her touches. " _Exsominus_. I remember."

Hermione nodded. "Wakeful. It apparently opened up paths that were closed when you were a just a babe."

"Mum knew something was wrong with me." Harry drew in a breath and he paled. "Voldemort's first curse, the Avada Kedavra."

Hermione nodded, watching him closely as more bruises and new scars appear on his face. She continued though, hoping to make him understand. "Lily Potter's sacrifice helped subdue your awakening, and your next near death experience awakened it again. But your mind, I think, sought to protect you. For each near death experience, there was an equally traumatic one to follow that shut down your senses. But this curse was the final episode, and what was awakened cannot be put back to sleep. we have to work through it together."

Harry drew back, and Hermione looked at him again. The old wounds, ones she knew the healers had repaired reappeared and Harry cried out, knocking her free from his lap. Falling over in pain as the full brunt of what happened came down on him, Harry curled into the fetal position, trying to shield his head and body. She crawled closer and grabbed his hand. "Listen, Harry! Listen to my voice."

"It hurts!"

His shout echoed around the room and Harry moaned, reaching for his ears and tugging on the lobes, but he didn't let her hand go. 

"I know, but I can't help you unless you let me. I can help you, you just have to focus, Harry," Hermione said, evenly and firmly, but as softly as she could.

Hating to see him like this, and knowing she was going to hurt him more, Hermione leaned in, pressing against him. He cried out as she wrapped herself around him and then he turned over on his side to meet her. His arms circled around her, tugging her closer and aligning their bodies. She rested her forehead on his chest, and heard the sigh within him even as his expelled breath brushed over her hair. "That's it, calm down," she whispered.

Harry's breathing was still fast, but he stopped writhing under her. His skin twitched and spasmed in places, and he ran his hands over her back as he gathered control of himself.

The bag of holding she'd not had before appeared next to his head and she saw the flash in her peripheral. She arched in his arms, stretching over his head and grabbed it. The potion she needed was right on top and she tipped it out into her palm before she pushed Harry flat on his back. Leaning over him, she stroked his face, rubbing the balm into the knot on his forehead where the spell had hit him. "Harry," she whispered. "Look at me, please."

His eyes opened, the green iris slick with tears and pain. His face morphed a long snout growing from his nose and antlers extended from the top of his head to scratch along the ground. She pressed her palm to his face. "Stay with me. Stay human, Harry, I can't help Prongs."

"How did you know?" Harry asked. 

"Ron talks in his sleep."

He snorted and the snout retreated, though tiny nubs of antlers remained, then grew out once more through his dark hair. She eyed his rack carefully then looked down at him. He studied her and reached up to touch her face. The back of his fingers traced along her cheek and down her neck.

"Soft pretty fur," he murmured and stroked her again. She realized she'd let the otter take over and closed her eyes, concentrating on her human features. So imprecise and yet, so easy to lose oneself. Wondrous, too. And something to be explored at a later time.

Harry gave a disappointed grunt when she pulled back.

"I won't push again," he said and folded his hands behind his head, a frustrated expression on his face, and even though he didn't appear to be angry, just confused, it hurt to see the look on his face.

"Try again once we are finished," Hermione murmured. "Neither of us have much control here," then she leaned down and slanted her mouth against his. He kept his hands away, but returned her kiss, sneering slightly when she withdrew.

"I will," he promised.

"I look forward to it."

Harry grinned then. "Where are we?"

"A safe place, apparently." Hermione glanced around then looked back down at him.

"The Forest of Dean," Harry said. "Not the most safe place, but many good things happened here for me."

Hermione nodded, grateful he was focusing on her and not the pain, not the bad memories and Ron leaving them. She was doing that enough on her own and though she knew that she needed to stop, she knew she couldn't help it. With him out of control, her own emotions would be wild as well. She needed to hurry if they were going to survive. "I have to move, but I want you to remain focused, Harry. I need you to trust me and let me help you."

"I'll try. You smell wonderful. The forest smells wild and I can feel hundreds of things. The grass, the breeze," he paused and looked back up at her. "You."

Hermione swallowed at the intense look in his eyes. "Your senses, your body and your soul are out of alignment. I can help you with this, ground you, but you are going to have to try to not get lost in just one thing."

He reached down and tentatively reached out to touch her thigh. He watched her the entire time until his fingertips and thumb was a solid presence on her skin. She nodded at him and he rested his palm flat against her leg, his thumb rubbing a small circle on her flesh.

His antlers retreated fully, a small glow, like the silver of a Patronus, settled around him then sank beneath his skin. The curse wounds flared bright red and Harry groaned, his fingers tightening on her leg for a moment, but he remained still otherwise.

"Good," Hermione whispered and then dragged her bag to her once more. Bottle after bottle she opened and upended on him, rubbing the medicines in and feeding him others. Her fingers webbed a few times, but she managed to straighten them out. Harry watched her the entire time and never even flinched when she raised her wand to him. 

Singing the spells she'd been taught, Hermione watched as the curse marks lightened and finally faded away. With a sigh, she collapsed forward, exhausted but satisfied from her work to heal him. She rested against Harry's chest. His arms came about her, cradling her close.

"I knew you were good. That you'd figure it out," Harry murmured.

She smiled against his chest. "I hope you still believe so when we wake, Harry."

"Found you now, and I'm not letting go."

Hermione raised up and looked down at him. "This is just the beginning, Harry. Your senses are fully online, now, and will remain so. You-- we-- are forever changed since you allowed me to bring you back." She touched his scruffy cheek, scratching the stubble there.

Harry winced at the sound the touch made. "When haven't I been different, Hermione? I'm sorry that you are now caught up in it as well."

Hermione shook her head. "Not different, special, Harry, and there's no place I'd rather be than with you."

Harry closed his eyes. Hermione rested on him again and felt her body sink into Harry's. It was warm and soothing inside of him and she dreaded the chill of St. Mungo's and the coming confrontations once they returned home.


	5. Five

Harry jolted awake and he blinked, eyeing the room blearily and looking for Hermione. He found her lying next to him, in a bed all her own, and wanted to move closer. He reached out for her, then stopped though, remembering how she set boundaries during their dreamwalk. The urge to touch, to possess, was still highly present and definitely persistent. He'd never wanted to cross that 'best friend's girl' line before, in spite of admiring her from afar. Her bossy attitude had irritated him as well as made him want to toe the line. His feelings on the matter were confusing and almost entirely inappropriate. But even knowing that, he wanted her.

He wondered what her skin would feel like for real and if it was as soft as it had been in the dream. If she smelled like that spicy amber scent and what it would be like to wake with it, with her, every day.

Harry had always been envious of Ron and Hermione's relationship, even when they were fighting. Especially after the war, and the two had parted ways, they remained friends, even after breaking up and seeing other people. He knew what had happened and why, because as she had mentioned, Ron had a light hold on his tongue. He'd never questioned Hermione about it, and she never mentioned it when they met for a friendly round of drinks to catch up.

Shaking his head, Harry tried to focus his thoughts without getting sidetracked. He closed his eyes, stretched his body and felt good, better than he had been before the curse, to be honest. Nothing but the minor aches and pains for being abed too long tingled along his spine and legs. Those small discomforts made him wonder just exactly what had happened to him. He knew he'd been cursed, and then Hermione had healed him. He didn't remember much else beside what had happened during their dreamwalk.

Hermione had never actually said what was wrong with him, but it was difficult to maintain his emotions and thoughts. Having her near seemed to keep him somewhat on track, even if he was wandering mentally. That's what she'd told him. Focus on her and she would help. It didn't hurt to look at her, but he couldn't wait until she woke and he had permission to touch. Being able to see her was enough. For now.

He watched her, though she was blurry, and as he stared, he noticed that his vision narrowed, sharpened. The blobs became defined shapes which had definite colours before everything came into clear focus. Harry took a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes, blinked, but the picture did not change.

He could see perfectly without his glasses. His hearing and other senses had been perfectly fine, if not slightly better than normal due to his eyesight being so bad. This, however, was completely new for him and he sank into the ability to see uninhibited, even as he reached up to adjust his glasses. He felt a bit silly making the motion despite it being a daily habit for the last fifteen years.

Not even magic, or any magic that he knew of, could fix the problem with his eyes. But this, this strange condition, he still didn't know what to call it, was extraordinary, and Harry glanced around the room, just seeing what he could see. The light wasn't too bright, thankfully, just a few floating candles flickered, casting shadows about the room. He could see the eggshell and pale blue tones the walls were painted and the small signature on the portrait of wildflowers across the room.

His other senses, he remembered from the dreamwalk, were just as enhanced, and though he tried to remain focused on one thing in particular, other noises distracted his attention. 

The conversations happening outside his room, were muffled by the hospital's privacy charms, but the little snippets of voices creeped in. Ron's deep rumble answered the questions of the reporters from _The Daily Prophet_ , _WItch Weekly_ and _The Quibbler_. Kingsley's bass tones thundered through him and the conversation heated up, but he tuned it out and focused on the rest of the changes he now possessed.

Shivering, Harry drew up the cotton sheets on the bed, snuggling back down into the left over sleep heat he'd generated. The room was comfortable and temperate, without being overly warm, and he sensed the magical charm that regulated the temperature shift. He felt, more than heard, the atmospheric spell as it began to generate a gentle breeze to cool the room. The tiny hairs on his arms stood up in the almost non-existence wind and he ran his hands along his arms, pushing the hairs flat before sliding his fingers back up his arms just to feel the sensation again.

He shook himself and licked his lips, feeling the papery crackle from being parched on his mouth. Harry tasted the salt from his skin, the potions, and even the ingredients from the draughts that left their residue on his mouth. Reminded of the events from his dream, he glanced over at Hermione, and still she slept on.

Harry could hear her heartbeat, the thump-whooshing sound steady in her sleep. It thundered in his ears, as did his own, until they synchronized to one steady thrum. His heart slowed to match her drowsy beat, and Harry yawned. Hearing the two beat in sympathy calmed him and allowed him to fully appreciate the picture before him.

Hermione slept on as if in defiance of the noisy conversation escalating outside. She was just as beautiful as she had been in his dream, he thought. He was reminded of the time that she became the beautiful woman before him. Her teenage self had only been a glimpse of the potential that night at the Yule Ball, but the image of her hanging between girl and woman stuck with him. The reality was far better than he had ever anticipated or even wanted to discover he could know about her.

Harry couldn't say he'd ever been in love with Hermione, but he did love her. He wouldn't quantify what he felt with false platitudes until he knew exactly what had happened to him. Still, it was hard to see her and not want her next to him warming his side. Tilting his head, he studied her.

He could see nothing that led him to believe she was in any sort of distress, or that their dreamwalk had caused any harm. And knowing she was well, made his heart speed just a bit in the hopes that once it was noticed they were awake, they could leave. She brought him back down even in her slumber, but it didn't deaden the way he felt.

Harry felt more alive in this moment now, even more than when he had made his decision to die, he decided, and wondered if every revelation was going to be as wondrous as these first discoveries with his new increased senses. With those thoughts, his back twinged and his forehead throbbed before he reminded himself to relax. He tried not to think about the pain from his accident, but focused, instead, on the newness around him.

A small whistling sound drew his attention and he discovered that it came from Hermione's slightly open mouth. He covered his face, trying not to laugh at the little noise, knowing it would embarrass her to be seen at anything other than her 'most put together.' He revelled in the sight.

Her hair, the fringe tousled from sleep, was wild despite the thong that tied it back from her face. Several curls had escaped the tie and rested against her cheek. Her face was flushed ever so slightly across her cheeks and Harry could even see the spattering of little brown freckles on her nose.

_Merlin!_ He itched and ached to touch her, to pull her close and breath in the scent of her and her perfume. 

"You're staring," Hermione's voice broke through his thoughts and he jumped.

Harry focused on her, found her watching him, one chocolate brown eye open, the other hidden in the pillow. She adjusted on the bed, looking at him fully and worrying her bottom lip.

"I'm fine," Harry reassured her and she nodded. "You're fine, we are all fine. Just give me my ticket to the Janus Thickey Ward and we'll be on our merry way."

Hermione closed her eyes and giggled. Harry just listened to the sound, revelling in the tone and her voice. Her laughter was deeper than he'd thought. A more sensual and smoky tone than some of the other women he'd seen.

"Will you come closer?"

Hermione sobered and glanced at him, a coy little expression crossed her face and Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "Am I going to have to beg?"

She blinked and sat up, pulling the white sheet with her, using it as a cover even though she had on the same sort of hospital robe he wore. "Why would I do that?"

Harry shrugged it off. "Nevermind. Just come join me, if you would. I'd… I'd like to hold you."

Hermione watched him for a long moment, and Harry thought she was going to refuse, but she swallowed and he watched the motion of her throat. She slid down from the bed and crossed the little space between them. Scooting back in the bed, Harry made room for her, sighing as the scent of her surrounded him. Her body warmed him, and he hadn't even realized he was chilled again.

Slowly, she leaned back into him and then sighed as he wrapped his arms around her. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled. "Much better. Thank you."

Chuckling, she relaxed fully into him, and Harry was reminded of those long gone days of being in the common room, when she laid her head in Ron's lap. He'd wanted that, not necessarily with her, but with someone, and he felt he could have it if he trod carefully. His arms tightened around her and held her close. 

Harry listened to her breathing and then asked, "Is this permanent?"

Hermione stiffened then shifted in his arms. He loosened his hold, trying to force himself to not restrain her. She turned halfway and looked him in the eye. "Your senses, yes, that is permanent. You will have to learn to control them, and if I remember correctly, once you do, you will be just fine."

Harry licked his lips, "And if not?"

Hermione looked away from him. "I will always be here for you no matter what, Harry."

"What is this?" He questioned, wanting her to say more, but dreading it as well.

"You're a Sentinel, and.." She looked back at him for a moment then looked out over his shoulder. "I'm a Guide. I'll always help you when necessary, Harry, but I won't intrude on your life."

Harry nodded, then picked up her hand, running his fingers over the tiny imperfections of her skin. The callouses caused by her writing implements as she worked on her school work from Uni. She still had some time to go before she finished whatever degree she was working on. He and Ron had finished Auror training, had been training new recruits for a couple of years, as she had gone back to Hogwarts for her N.E.W.Ts. In spite of all that, he desperately wanted to hear some sort of confirmation from her about what was going to happen. 

"A Guide?" he asked and turned her face to look at him. She met his gaze and nodded. 

"My Guide." He made it a statement, hoping to force the words from her mouth. He desperately wanted to hear that she was his and his alone.

"If you so desire."

Not quite what he was looking for but it would do for now. "I do." Harry searched her face, still not finding the answers he wanted. He'd give her time.

Leaning back, he inquired. "And what does being a Sentinel entail?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't actually know. I had yet to find a case where a wizard was Sentinel, but the Muggle ones, well, let's just say they exist, but in secret."

"So, situation normal, then. We are all wizards, with magical powers, but only a few people know, and Harry Potter's new affliction will be front page news."

"Your sarcasm isn't appreciated." 

Harry grinned at her, and she smiled back at him.

"It doesn't have to change, you know, you could still go about your business."

"Just my business?" Harry didn't know if it was all the changes that led him to feel this way, but he didn't feel it necessary to stop his actions. He wanted to explore the differences in his life, with her at his side, and anything else she would let him have.

"Well, yes, the living your life part... without my interference."

He hummed. "Why would I want that when you haven't stopped interfering since I locked you in the loo with that troll?"

"Harry," Hermione pleaded and he smiled at her.

"That's my name. We'll figure this out one way or another, yeah?" He eyed her, wishing she would relent and say yes. But all she did was stare at him, biting her lip, and looking entirely thrown. Her face showed every emotion as if she'd been given the keys to Flourish and Blotts and told to pick out everything she ever wanted. He wanted to give that option to her.

"Say, 'yes, Harry, I want to be your interference'." Harry grinned. "It isn't hard. Just let yourself have me."

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, Harry. I'd like that."

"Good." Harry leaned in closer. "May I?"

"Please." Hermione closed her eyes.

Harry laid his lips against hers, soft and gentle, waiting for her to relax, and when she did, he waited a moment longer. Her fingers clutched at his clothing and he pressed into her, slowly sliding his tongue along the seam of her mouth. She opened for him and Harry sank into her, drowned himself in her taste.

He had kissed a few women before, but there was something about Hermione that just surpassed all the others. He breathed her in, tasting her and committing it to memory. He tugged on her and she went willingly into his lap, her legs spidering over his, and pressing up against his body. His hands dived into her hair, fingers digging out the band and tossing it aside so he could tangle his fists in her curls.

Hermione moaned and it was loud in his ears. He drank that in, too, not wanting to move from this spot. She had finally relented for him, because somewhere, deep down, he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. He just had to convince her it was worth trying. 

She gentled the kiss before he could get carried away and drew back, eyeing him and she pressed a hand to her mouth. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?"

"Do tell." Harry smirked. "Better yet, show me. Show me that this isn't some crazy side effect from me changing."

Hermione sighed and leaned back as if hoping to put space between them. That the distance would settle her. 

"You need space," Harry said.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I know what I would like to happen, and what will most likely happen, and I can't say that it doesn't concern me, because it does--"

"You're babbling, and all I want is for you to calm down. I didn't mean to upset you."

Hermione shook her head and Harry watched her. Watched the war of her emotions fight out her decision. The suspense was killing him, so he took it out of her hands.

"I wish for many things, and for only what you feel comfortable giving me. I won't push you on this, as this is only the beginning," Harry pressed his mouth to hers one more time.

Hermione buzzed his lips, and Harry protested when she pulled back. "But, Harry. My university studies, and your work, we don't know what is going to happen…"

"All in good time. We will figure it out in time." Harry kissed her again, frowning against her mouth when the door opened. 

Hermione scrambled to get off his lap, then froze, sitting down hard beside him in the bed. Both of them gaped at the strange man that had somehow or other sneaked into the room without the reporters or his guards noticing. The press conference was still on going as far as Harry could discern, and he turned to look at the man who had entered.

"Ah. Mr Potter. Miss Granger. My apologies for disturbing you."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the man. "Then why are you?"

Hermione shushed Harry, resting her hand upon his chest. "I think I saw him earlier, outside with the Muggle authorities. MI6?"

"No, not Muggle my dear, although we have been known to work with them from time to time."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask another question, but Harry didn't really care. He just wanted to man to leave. He took her hand, threaded their fingers together and breathed out. "All right. She says you've got a few moments, but answer her question first. We have other matters to attend."

"Indeed, and I hope that I may be a part of those decisions, or at the very least, set you on your path to the right decision for you to remain together as a bonded Sentinel pair."

Harry stared at him, waiting for the rest of the explanation.

The man inclined his head. "I am Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Reginald Winthrop the Third. And I have a proposition for you and Miss Granger."

Harry looked at Hermione, who stared right back at him. She nodded, and though he had no idea where their lives were going, Harry made the decision to keep them together. He turned to face the man then said, with a grin, "We are listening, Supreme Mugwump."

Reginald Winthrop smiled and nodded at the pair. "A most excellent decision, Mr Potter. I hope you won't be disappointed."

The End


End file.
